Bear Hug
by Rose Starre
Summary: The McMahons think the WWE Superstars need a vacation. So, they send them on one! Where do they go? What kind of hilarity ensues once they're there?


**Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything.**

Mr. McMahon looked at the Superstars that had bothered to gather in his office. His wife and children stood behind him. His son-in-law looked unsure as to where he should be standing, and so was standing awkwardly beside Mr. McMahon's desk.

"You've been working pretty hard lately," Mr. McMahon began, "And we think you guys need a vacation."

Triple H was startled. "But sir," he protested, "The business…"

"Can do without you for a while," Mr. McMahon finished for him.

Shawn Michaels elbowed Triple H in the ribs. "We accept," he said, shooting his best friend an angry glance. Triple H returned the glare, rubbing his side mulishly.

Randy Orton blinked slowly at Mr. McMahon. "Where are you sending us?" he asked casually.

"You'll find out when you get there," Mr. McMahon said.

"You're not even telling us where we're going?!" CM Punk snapped.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Triple H snapped back. Turning to Mr. McMahon, he asked, "You _do_ have at least one reason, right?"

Mr. McMahon seemed to think it over for a minute. Then, he told them, "No."

The reaction was instantaneous. A chorus of 'What?'s, 'Why?'s, and 'No?'s fell upon the ears of the McMahon family. _I hope it's at least someplace fun, _Orton thought crossly, _Someplace like Disney World, maybe._

Looking somewhat pleased with the reaction, Mr. McMahon told them, "I'll tell you one thing, the place you'll be visiting is very interesting."

Unable to hold back the question any longer, Randy asked, "Is it Disney World or what?"

Now looking extremely confused, Mr. McMahon said, "No, I'm not sending you to Disney World." The other Superstars looked at Randy like he belonged in an insane asylum. (This is probably not far from the truth, considering the voices he hears in his head.)

After a minute of intense silence, Kane said, "So, now we know where we're _not_ going. But, you still won't budge on the whole mystery destination thing, will you?"

"You're correct," Mr. McMahon answered. Judging by the look on his face, Mr. McMahon hadn't even seen Kane walk in. After yet another moment of silence, Mr. McMahon spoke again, "Oh, and Kane, you should probably not wear your mask around the place I'm sending you."

"Why not?" Kane asked coolly.

"It would scare people," Mr. McMahon responded.

"That's the whole point," Kane said, unwavering in his calm.

"I don't care," came the reply.

"You_ do_ understand that, should I take this mask off, I would surely go rampaging down the streets of wherever you are sending us. And probably kill some people," Kane said. The general calm of the aforesaid statement frightened just about everyone in the room.

Looking extremely startled, Mr. McMahon surrendered, "Alright, fine. Keep the mask." Turning from the forceful gaze of Kane, he muttered to himself, "Better to have some frightened people than a big lawsuit about Kane murdering people."

Turning back to the Superstars gathered before him, Mr. McMahon declared, "Alright, the camper's out back. Go have fun on your vacation!"

_A camper, _Daniel Bryan thought, _That could be a big clue…_

o(O0O)o

As Mr. McMahon had said, there was a camper out in the back lot. It was an expensive one that was surprisingly big enough to house all the Superstars that were coming. The Rock opened the door for them. "All aboard The Rock Express!" he cried.

"What are _you_ doing in there?" John Cena asked.

"The Rock's taking you on a road trip, Fruity Pebbles!" The Rock explained. "Besides, it's boss's orders."

"You know where we're going?!" CM Punk asked excitedly.

"Yep," The Rock said, "But The Rock ain't telling you until we're there." CM Punk glared at The Rock moodily, obviously disliking the way in which The Rock talked, not to mention the fact that he _still_ didn't know the destination.

The Superstars filed into the camper and found places to sit, or, in some cases, lie down. "Is everybody ready?" The Rock asked. The mumbled 'Sure's' were answer enough for The Rock. As the camper careened down the road, The Rock called out the open window at his side, "Can you smell what The Rock is cookin'?"

"You're not even cooking," Daniel said pointedly, "You're driving."

The Rock glared at him for a second before turning back to the road. "The Rock knows what he is doing. The Rock just wanted to say something cool," he replied.

o(O0O)o

They drove for some time without incident. John had gotten bored and had decided to try to take a nap. Shawn raised his eyebrows at Triple H and gestured at the slumbering Superstar. "Got any ideas worthy for us degenerates to pull on such an iconic Superstar?" he asked.

"You know it," Triple H replied. He told Shawn the plan, then proceeded to carry it out. "Hey Shawn, what's that coming along the road behind us?" he asked, just loud enough for John to hear.

"I don't know, Hunter," Shawn replied, "I think it might be a bear."

Peering down the road, Triple H nodded, as if to confirm what Shawn said. "Yeah, it's a bear alright. Hey, what's that it's wearing around its neck?"

"Looks like a napkin," Shawn said. "And look, Hunter, the napkin has words printed on it."

Triple H squinted down the road. "It reads John Cena in the middle there," he said, "There are words above it, but I can't read those. I don't have my reading glasses on, could you read that for me, Shawn?"

"Sure thing, buddy," Shawn responded, "The words above it are 'I' then there's a heart." John smiled, figuring that it was a fan they were talking about, even though they had clearly said 'bear'. "Hey, wait." Shawn continued, "As the bear is gaining on us, I'm starting to see something over the heart there. It looks like a knife and a fork. What could that mean, Hunter?"

Triple H snapped his fingers. "Oh, I get it!" he exclaimed. "It means, 'I love to eat John Cena'!"

John yelped and dove under the table. "Don't let it eat me," he squeaked.

"I'm afraid we can't stop a bear, Cena," Shawn said, faking sympathy. "You'll just have to face your sad, untimely demise."

"I suggest you get a good look at your killer," Triple H said with mock sadness. "It was good knowing you, John."

John crept out from under the table and stood shakily. What he saw was a hastily made and even more hurriedly hung sign emblazoned with the DX logo. The two members of D-Generation X were too busy chuckling to themselves to notice Cena's stern gaze.

"I suppose that's why they call you 'Cerebral Assassin'," Shawn pointed out, still snickering.

"Yeah," Triple H answered, "That would be why."

Cena rolled his eyes. _This'll be a long trip,_ he thought moodily.

To be continued…

_This is going to be fun. Honestly, I'm not all that sure where they'll be going. Nonetheless, it's not Disney World. Until the next chapter, farewell!_


End file.
